Page 152 of Deceitful Vows

“Thanks for the compliment.”

He laughs before banding his arm around my shoulders and noogying my hair. That’s how tall he is. He doesn’t even need to stretch to balance his chin on the top of my head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just figured I’d ease you into asking how much elevator rocking you were subjected to. But since you seem to like it dry and hard, I’ll just ask. How perverted are you, princess?”

“Call me princess again and you’ll find out.” I squash my finger to his lips before the “p” of princess leaves his mouth. “And what elevator rocking?”

“You missed it?” He blows out a hot breath. “I guess I’ll bunk with you tonight. You may be the only one saved from his wrath when he learns her moans could be heard from down here.”

“He?” I ask, lost.

“Maksim and Doc,” he answers like I’m slow. “They made up.” I smile, happy. “And they’ve been hogging the elevator for”—my smirk grows when he checks his imaginary Rolex—“long enough that if Doc charges by the hour, Maksim is gonna wish he had taken out premium health coverage.” He nudges his head to the conference. “His four p.m. has also been here for over an hour.”

“Did you tell Maksim he has a guest waiting?”

When Ano shakes his head like my suggestion is insane, I whack him.

“What? You can’t seriously expect me to interrupt Maksim when he’s…” He makes a gesture I am extremely proud of. “You may survive that shit, but I sure as hell won’t.”

“You’re such a chicken shit.” Says the lady who hasn’t told him about our possible connection because I’m terrified my mother is responsible for the assault that stole his memories. “Where are they?”

“In the elevator.Duh.”

I roll my eyes before entering the security office to advise Maksim of his appointment. My brisk pace slows when I spot a Post-it note stuck to the front of my planner. It has a date two weeks from now and a location scribbled across it, but no other details.

“What is this?” I ask anyone listening.

Two guards shrug before a third one pops up. “The caller didn’t leave any details. He just wanted me to tell you that that isthedate.” He emphasizes “the” like it should mean something.

“The date?” My heart whacks my chest when the fog clears enough for me to understand the cryptic message. “Thedate. This”—I wiggle the Post-it note in the air—“isthedate.”

When he nods, I stumble back.

My baby sister is getting married in two weeks, and my invite came in the form of a Post-it note.

I guess it is better than no invitation at all.

60

ANDRIK

My jaw flexes as I tug on the stupid designer tie choking me. Its hold is as firm as my hands are itching to compress around Mikhail’s throat. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t made contact. Even with me trying to push him away throughout our adolescent years, this is the longest we’ve been out of contact.

I was pretty fucking adamant when I let everyone go that I’d break his legs if he didn’t give me some space, but I was strung out, drunk, and fairly certain I wouldn’t see out the week breathing.

I had arrived at Maksim’s hotel to make sure he hadn’t followed me down the same destructive path. That he knew of Zoya’s lineage before he made a fatal error.

I just lost all sense of morality when my entrance into the hotel saw me stumbling onto them locking lips. I should have been sympathizing with how Mikhail would have felt when he found out how fucking sick his feelings for Zoya are. Instead, I was like a bull in a china shop.

My beatdown had nothing to do with smacking some sense into Mikhail. I wanted to hurt him how it hurt me seeing them kiss.

That’s fucked to even admit, but it is honest.

When my call is sent to voicemail for the umpteenth time today, I get desperate.

I use my son to gain my little brother’s attention.

Me:

Zakhar is getting a new heart tomorrow afternoon. If you’re not man enough to stand by my side through this, man up for him. He’s your blood, Mikhail. That’ll always be thicker than water.

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